A series of Fullmetal Alchemist short stories
by Coriana
Summary: A series of Fullmetal Alchemist short stories.
1. Prompt 024  Family

Prompt 024: Family

Alex Louis Armstrong

Word Count: 684

Notes: Please bear with me on this one; I couldn't completely remember how it really played out.

* * *

It was almost time.

Alex Louis Armstrong checked his watch again. Very soon.

As he stood by the large window, he could see a black car pull in to the side of the road. It was time.

He watched as a blonde hair man stepped out, watching in awe of the Armstrong Mansion. He promptly turned around and tried to step back into the car. Some other people pushed him back out.

So, he was shy, eh?

Maybe he needed a warmer welcome…

Alex burst through the door, "Welcome to the Armstrong family home!" He saw Jean Havoc jump into the air. Alex grabbed him in a monstrous bear hug. And even though he tried not too, he got emotional over this moment. Tears slipped unheeded down his face. This could just as well be his brother-in-law if Katharine wished it.

Putting him down, he guided him towards the house. Telling him the history of the Armstrong house as they walked down the long pathway.

"…My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-Grandfather built this mansion with his own two hands and a hammer. Need I say more about the awesomeness of the Armstrong heritage?"

Jean shook his head.

"But I must. The wonder of that building technique has been passed on to generation to generation…"

They opened the front door and were greeted by Louis Armstrong who also pulled Jean into a bear hug. This could just as well be his son-in-law if Katharine wished it.

As they walked down the carpeted hallway, his father told the story of all the items and pictures they passed.

"...And this hand-blown glass vase by my great-great-great uncle. But his wonders of glass—making was not lost but passed down the Armstrong line!" His father knew how to perfectly tell the stories of the family. Alex hoped he could perfect his story telling in the future.

He realized that Jean had not said one word since arriving. Alex decided that he must be mesmerized by the history of the Armstrongs'.

They sat in the dining room, his father's talented story telling of the houses' history made tears run down Alex's cheeks.

And then his mother entered, her tall, regal elegance sending a shining light through the room.

Jean nearly jumped out of his chair. He must be startled by her beauty.

"Now, husband," she said, placing her hand on Louis' shoulder. "Do not bore the young man with are history. This night is for Katharine."

"Where is that girl, anyway?" Louis asked joyfully.

"I'm right here." Said the sweet, melodious voice of his sister. His mother took step to the side to reveal his beautiful little sister. Her long, dark golden hair spilled over her slender shoulders. Her graceful body held majestically. Her big, very green eyes watched Havoc.

They were both quiet for awhile. Alex decided they needed help.

"My beautiful little sister, Katharine Marie Armstrong. Meet Lieutenant Jean Havoc, Katharine."

"Hello, Mr. Havoc," she said shyly, with a sweet smile.

"It is an honor to meet you, Miss Katharine," He bowed quite formally, "May I ask what is it you have acquired from the Armstrong line?"

"Well," She said thoughtfully, "I like to paint and sew, cook, clean and, oh yes, play the piano."

Jean looked like he could dance through a patch of wildflowers.

"Or sometimes," Katharine added, "I like to play under the piano," she picked up the baby grand piano in the corner of the room.

Jean's eyes almost popped out of his head. But to Alex, he looked impressed.

Jean cleared his throat as she put the piano down.

"Miss Katharine Armstrong," Jean started.

"Yes?" She whispered.

"Would you do me the great honor of bringing you out on a date?"

"Well," Katharine said, "I've always waited my whole life for this moment, and I've always dreamed of a guy like you, but—

–I've always imagined him to look more like my brother, physically."

Jean looked as if a sword had been rammed into his head.

Alex felt compelled right then and there to throw off his shirt.

More waiting would have to be done before Katharine made her pick. He was so very proud of his sister.


	2. Prompt  Choices

Jean cupped his hand over the cigarette as he lit it; he shook the match, making the flame go out.

He started down the sidewalk, the sun was warm and bright today, the first sun anyone had seen in two weeks. A slight breeze ruffle his shaggily cut hair, he passed a brunette, slight of frame, but pretty. She looked up and smiled as she passed, holding a basket of tulips.

_Roy would have asked for her phone number, _he thought, rolling his eyes at himself.

The town was busy today, bustling with life only the sun could bestow. Many bike riders past him and plenty of girls who had broke into their shorts drawer kept his eyes occupied.

It took him a moment to realize that his cigarette had gone out. He took it out of his mouth and threw it into a passing ashtray.

Fury said that he needed to start smoking a pipe, because it'd look more mysterious. Breda said that girls didn't like it when you smoked. (The polite way of saying you should stop.) Falman said he should just stop. (The blunt way of saying it.)

Life was full choices, wasn't it? To smoke or not. To find a nice, stable girl. If that was even possible. Mustang seemed to have the same taste in woman as him. But he always seemed to find them, after _he _had found them. He would have to look into that…

Settling down a bit would be nice, though. No, it was too much trouble.

In his train of thoughts he accidentally ran into someone, or that someone ran into him. He was never sure.

Sheska turned around to look at him; she looked rather nice today, actually. The dark blue of the uniform lit off her skin the nicely.

"Oh, sorry, lieutenant!" She apologized. She had a stack of books under each arm, she almost dropped them.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said hurriedly, grabbing a stack she had under one arm.

Thank you," she said, evening out the other pile.

"No problem," he said. She smiled shyly, her glasses making her eyes big.

As they walked to headquarters, they were both silent. The silence was slightly uncomfortable, but it wasn't unpleasant, either.

But still, he thought he should say something, "You, uh, look very nice today." Yep. That was lame. He should've kept his mouth shut.

"Oh, thank you," she said, looking up at him. "You look very nice today, too."

He looked nice? He hadn't even washed his hair this morning.

He set the books on the table of her office when they had arrived.

"Thank you very much, lieutenant Havoc," she smiled. She had very white teeth.

Jean smiled to himself outside her office. He lit up the last cigarette in his pack.

Hmmmm... Maybe settling down wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

Prompt 086: Choices

Jean Havoc

Word Count: 479


	3. Prompt  Smile

Title: Grandma's House

Prompt 014: Smile

Word Count: 186

* * *

"Smile, Fletcher," Russell said.

Fletcher wrinkled his nose, his grandma's flowery perfume filling his nostrils.

The bright pink kitchen of his grandma's house felt suffocating to the ten-year old Fletcher. As a child, he didn't know how his older brother could look so happy.

There was a plus though; Grandma did bake lots of cookies, cakes and pies. The worst part of the visit was that Grandma had an odd habit of pulling his hair whenever she saw him, giving Fletcher a sore head by the time they finally left.

Grandma carried in a plate of cookies and set it down in front of them. She was a smiley, old woman with iron-gray hair that was elaborately braided then coiled around her head.

She poured them both glasses of milk, chattering on about something that Fletcher didn't care about. He reached for a cookie and dipped it in the milk.

The doorbell rang and Grandma said, "Oh, I better get that," but on her way out she gave Fletcher's hair a little tug.

Maybe he'd pull that fancy braid off her head.

"Smile, Fletcher," Russell said.


	4. Prompt  White

The world was white.

No…not the world…the room. The room was white.

He was huddled in the corner. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. And loneliness. All alone.

He cried out in panic, his red eyes looking for a way out of the white room. There was only one door. Even the doorknob was white.

He had already tried the door. It had burned him.

He moved back to his corner.

No way out, no way out…

Suddenly the door opened and a tall woman walked in. He could see there were people outside the room before she shut the door.

He could only manage a growl. But she came towards him with no fear. She crouched in front of him.

Her face was very pale, which made the redness of her lips darker. Her face was framed by thick, black curls. She held out one gloved hand. In the hand she held the delicious red rocks that they had so suddenly took away from him.

He cried out in joy as she handed them to him. As he ate them, she said: "There, there…" She reached out a hand and stroked the top of his head.

He made a noise that almost sounded like a purr.

"No one will hurt you anymore. You're one of us now…"

He smiled at her. She was very pretty, and nice. She understood him.

"Come, Gluttony. I'm sure you're hungry."

Holding her hand, he followed her out of the white room.

* * *

Prompt 019: White

Gluttony

Word Count: 247


	5. Prompt Sight

Character: Elysia Hughes

Prompt: 040 – Sight

Word Count: 237

* * *

"The gremlins did it."

Elysia Hughes' mother, Gracia, put a hand over her eyes after those words. They stood inside the large living room. Books laid scattered everywhere, a jar of ink had 'somehow' gotten open and there were marks all over the carpet and sofa. The bar that had held up the drapes had been knocked off on one side and the bar now slanted across the window, the drape that had fallen to the floor had ink handprints everywhere on it. The cat at Gracia's feet had ink on her head.

Elysia had her hands behind her back, but the ink on her face and hair said that the gremlins had nothing to do with the matter.

"Honey, you know it isn't right to lie to Mommy about make-believe."

"I'm not lying. I can see gremlins. And they like Daddy's ink bottles!" Elysia stopped for a minute then added, "The ghosts. The ghosts didn't like your drapes, either."

"Elysia, get into the tub. I'll have Daddy deal with you when he gets home. Now," Gracia wasn't sure if it was the right move to have Mae reprimand their daughter. He would probably just agree that the drapes needed to be changed.

Elysia stomped off to the shower, her black hands still clasped behind her back.

Gracia looked at the ink all over the room and said, "And Daddy would probably agree that the gremlins did it."


End file.
